Gifts
by OpalOwly
Summary: Retsu considers how she values Kenpachi and the gifts he has given her.


We gave each other a gift without a price - a fight, bloodshed, desperation. I won our fight and that boy gave me another gift - the gift of victory over a worthy opponent. I did not thank him, though, for that last gift. I walked away and left him bleeding on the ground. I did not forget about that boy who had fought so well, though. I often longed for an opponent who could match his strength, but none came, and I despaired that one ever would. Years passed by and my battle fury slipped away from my soul. I turned to healing to hide my true self from my more peaceful companions. Jushiro - he never knew me as that boy had. They could only see the soft eyes and the kind smile. Shunsui - he knew, but he pretended ignorance.

Years passed and one day, a man came to claim the position I had formerly held. He wanted the captaincy of the 11th Division, and he took it from that fool Kiganjo and wasted no time in cutting the bastard in two. I was present for the for the fight and my heart swelled when I saw Kiganjo's opponent. It was the boy from so many years before. The look of thirst for bloodshed had not left his eyes and his wild skill with his weapon ha not been eroded by time. He was all the opponent I had found his younger self to be. My heart longed to fight him for old time's sake. My heart longed to fight him to ease the ache that had been caused by my peaceful state. But I could not. A new generation of shinigami had replaced many of the ones from years before. They did not know the part of me that craved a fight. They only knew my healing side - they would not be able to accept the violence that I held within me. So I languished as I longed for the fight I could not have.

This man and I - we danced around each other, both wanting something we could not have. For years we did this, simply flirting around each other, hinting at things we wanted but could not have. It was all for nought….

….Until the Quincies came and laid waste to our home. The man was almost killed, and I would lose the only man who ever truly mattered, the only person who I could truly consider my equal. Much like he would, with his strength, my man survived.

Shortly after the attack, after Shunsui had been made Captain Commander, I was called to speak to him. He spoke few words and they were solemn. Before I took my leave, he nodded to me silently. I thanked him because he was giving me the last gift he would ever give me.

I went to my rooms and unbraided my hair, uncovering the only wound I had ever received - a wound given to me by my man. I sent a message to him and then went below the buildings of Central 46. I waited for him, anticipation building in my heart. He came, and we began.

Our blades crossed and I could tell that he had not changed much since our last fight. He was no stronger and no weaker. He was still like the boy I had fought in the Rukongai. The look in his eyes was wilder, but he was still like his younger self. He rained blows down on me and gave back as good as I received. I wounded him; he paused. I was not deceived. My man could not be defeated so easily. But I could see in his eyes that he was beginning to realize. This would not be one of those fights where he could walk away without pain in his heart. This would not be like his fight with the substitute shinigami or his 3rd seat. One of us would not walk away from this place, yet knowing that, neither of us would be slack in our violence to save the other.

He rose again and struck me another blow. It was stronger than the blows he had given before I had wounded him. He was becoming stronger with each fresh wound. I was becoming harder pressed to match him. I was outdated. I had been the first Kenpachi, the strongest of all shinigami. But the realization was growing on me, that my man deserved that title more than I. Each blow he struck me, I stumbled more. Each blow he struck me, my soul became more at peace.

And then he struck me the same wound he had struck me all those years ago.

Kami requires that all gifts be appreciated. My man had given me two gifts as a boy, and I had only given him one. Until now. I could not understand the look in his eye. It was a look of pride that comes with victory, but it was mixed with the look of sadness when one loses a comrade, a loved one, and an equal. This was my gift to him to settle my account - the gift of victory over a worthy opponent.

But the account was not settled. I could not repay him this one. He gave me one last gift - death at the hands of the only worthy opponent I had ever known. He was the only person who could give me this….. the only man who could make me happy.


End file.
